


Flesh and Fang

by EclecticInk



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Vikings, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Feral Behavior, Gay Sex, Heterosexual Sex, Hunters & Hunting, M/M, Multi, Mythical Beings & Creatures, pet kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:22:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9607424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclecticInk/pseuds/EclecticInk
Summary: For the Vikings, living with monsters is a fact of life. One either adapts to survive, or becomes a meal... But not all monsters are what they appear to be... Some hide in the shadows behind bared fangs only to protect themselves; while others hide in plain sight, wearing a familiar friendly smile.





	1. Prologue  - The Monster Among Men

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Dear Readers,
> 
> Thank you for giving this fic a chance! It's gonna be a strange one and I hope you will all bare with me as the story unfolds!
> 
> I wanted to do something old-era and a bit whimsical so I went with a lycan/skin walker path for Will and used the fact that Mads ( Hannibal ) is a Dane and makes one hell of a sexy Viking to set my stage. I want to keep the characters close to who they are in series ( Hannibal still a trusted man even though he's actually a cannibal ) and Will a socially reserved and private man who connects too deeply with those he comes across. There will, of course, be divergence in the plot line from the series though.
> 
> Anyway, I appreciate you reading this, and welcome feedback! Enjoy the story!

Monsters live among us, this fact is known by all Norsemen, and to believe otherwise is nothing short of foolhardy.

Hannibal had encountered many such creatures in his lifetime… but none as dark and cruel as human beings themselves. Humans had a way about them that bordered on senseless viciousness, and all things great and small, save the Gods themselves, fled in the devastating shadow of mankind.

But in all honesty, he too, was just as much a monster and then some. 

He was a vile thing more ruthless, cunning, and utterly fearsome than most would assume of him at first glance. Not that he was a man without presence when people laid eyes on him… He was a Viking after all. But even his kinsmen would be unable to hold back the shudders from racing down their spines if they knew the ‘true Hannibal’ that lay in waiting behind his unassuming ‘mask’ and soothing voice. The lie of who and what he REALLY was.

True enough, he could show fealty to those of his homeland. Hannibal had, after all, fought as a warrior for his village since he was old enough to carry a shield and wield an axe without falling over from fatigue. Those days seemed so distant now and he had grown older, and stronger; body ‘seasoned’ from countless battles and blood soaked victory over other tribes and foreign invaders alike… It wasn’t as though he couldn’t be loyal…

Hel, most of his brethren looked to him for wisdom, council, and his opinion on matters of life, fate, and the growth of their village. Even the Jarl himself held stock on Hannibal’s thoughts concerning warfare and treaties to be had for the benefit of their growing territory.

But all his words and council were merely a means to an end… 

He enjoyed their false sense of security around him… their misguided trust in him as a ‘brother’. Meddling in the lives of those closest to him could be such a winding, calculating, and stimulating game for his dark intellect. One that Hannibal had grown exceptional at throughout the years, and had yet to lose.

Oh yes, Hannibal, had met many monsters in his life… None so wretched as the one he saw in his own reflection. And no man, friend or foe, could ever trust to turn their back on a monster like him without tempting the Fates… Without tempting his hunger.

Thus, was the duality of his life, and Hannibal assumed it was his path to walk alone.

At least, Hannibal had never found a man so utterly un-daunted by the entirety of his darkness…

Until William.


	2. Ruby on White

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again Dear Readers!
> 
> I have decided to try and use as many of the main characters from the series as I can and sort of integrate some of their key scenes or phrases into this story. I know many of their names are not 'Viking' but just go with me on this one, haha!
> 
> Also, I added in some actual Danish phrases to try and make it a bit more authentic. I will have a glossary at the end for you all! 
> 
> Thank you so much for continuing to read my humble little story and again, I appreciate all feedback!

Mother Nature must have been in one hell of a mood…

Winters in the North were often unforgiving and just a little too long for anyone’s liking, but the promise of spring seemed like a lie now… It was already well into May and although the sun had returned during the day, the cold and snow remained, wrapping the landscape in a frigid shroud.

It certainly put a damper on plans for summer raiding when most of the fjords that lead out to the ocean were still ice locked, making it impossible for ships to leave the village. Raiding wasn’t necessary, as the village was fairly large and prosperous, even without traders coming in by boat… But the warriors with no other tasks to take up their time were growing restless, and when they became bored, they became boorish.

Hannibal enjoyed the thrall of battle just as much as any other hot-blooded Norseman… but, being older now, he had found ways to occupy himself when at home so that he wouldn’t go stir crazy like his younger kinsmen. He’d taken to hunting and butchering, supplying the village with much needed meat during the winter months so that the livestock could be kept alive longer. For him, it was a soothing task… The delight of the kill and the methodic routine of skinning and flaying the carcass to strip off the best cuts of meat.

Lately, however, the pickings had been slim. Other creatures shared their lands and hunted too; trolls, dwarves, wolves. The long winter put a strain on all and meat was becoming scarce. Still, that didn’t stop Hannibal from trying. His own hunger drove him to kill and feed as often as his larder became empty, and luckily for him, his preferred tastes in meat was always plentiful.

“Hej, Hannibal…” The voice behind him brought the silvered warriors head up from his task as he rubbed salt into meat to cure, his gaze landing on the shorter, balding hunter.

“Ah, Hej Garret…” Hannibal greeted the other in return and nodded slightly to him.

Garret Hobbs was a skilled hunter and craftsman. What he lacked in a warrior’s strength and ferocity he made up for in his keen eye and steady hand with both a bow and the tools of his trade. Hannibal himself still had several knives of antler and iron that Garret had crafted for him at his request.

The smaller man stepped into the hut and glanced at the pelts and strips of meat hanging to dry, his hand idly rubbing at the stubble on his jaw and chin. “Getting pretty bare in here. The air smells like more snow too. Should we attempt to stock up a bit more before the storm closes in?”

Hannibal looked across to his drying rack and sighed with a mild nod of agreement. “Yes, I would certainly be happier to have more than this stored up. We might get lucky too… I think the deeper snow has driven the trolls and dwarves into their mountains.”

Garret snorted mildly and drew his fingers lightly down the coarse hair of the deer pelt stretched beside him.

“We can handle wolves… Don’t you think?” His eyes flickered to Hannibal, their depths hiding something the older man recognized, but neither of them mentioned aloud. It was a truth they shared, and seeing it there in the darkness of Garett’s otherwise pleasant gaze brought a slow smile to Hannibal’s lips.

“Let me finish here and grab my supplies.”

The younger man nodded with a smile that bordered on too eager and turned to get his own things packed and ready to go. Hannibal watched him leave and narrowed his amber colored eyes with consideration. Garret hadn’t been a threat to him yet, as a man or a monster, and they hunted well together…but there was something in Hobb’s eyes that put the predator in Hannibal on edge. His drying rack wasn’t the only ‘pantry’ going on empty, and Hannibal knew that Garett too was probably low on meat. Usually they would stock up under the guise of a raid, using the carnage and chaos as the perfect cover for their personal butchering… But there was no raid planned yet, and the nearest village was several days’ travel. With a storm threatening the area, a human hunt now was ill planned at best. So, what manner of game was Garett itching for?

Hannibal finished up and went to gather his weapons and supplies, wrapping himself in a cloak of fur to stave off the biting wind before moving to the village gate; Garett already waiting. 

“Til vores jagt~” The smaller hunter mused with a tip of his head and a wink before turning to the trail, leading Hannibal out into the wilderness.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hannibal’s breath billowed out between frost chapped lips that were now more blue than pink and hot crimson dripped from the gash over his eye down to the snow at his feet. His gaze darted across the open snow-scape cautiously, lingering on the long stretching shadows of skeletal trees; their brittle-bone branches now looking menacing instead of picturesque. The stillness around him was eerie… foreboding… and it held the threat of wild eyes, sharp claws, and hungry jaws.

The attack had come so damn fast!

Skilled hunters as they were, neither Hannibal nor Garret had been fully prepared for the ferocity and stealth in which the pack had sprung on them. He hadn’t even heard them approach across the snow… As though they had been lying in wait the whole time.

…But that couldn’t be! Wolves didn’t think about ambush that way. Not as humans did!

Garret’s voice pierced the stillness of the air like a stone across ice, making Hannibal flinch by the suddenness of it. It was followed by the chilling chorus of wolves on the hunt; closing in again. Hannibal’s breath quickened for a moment as he took stock of his surroundings and weapons at hand before closing his eyes and calming himself; breathing in slow and deep to center himself back into the mindset of a hunter. Even with a human nose, refined though his may have been, Hannibal could easily smell fresh blood in the air. 

Rich, metallic, and not his own.

Garret.

His feet carried him through snow that was deep enough that it dragged against his shins, slowing him down but at least muffling his movement. It took him several long minutes of following the growing scent in his nose before he found Hobbs, laid out on a blanket of white and ruby. The man was already growing pale, and it was nothing short of a wonder that he was still alive at all with his chest nearly torn open. Hannibal’s eyes moved over the carnage slowly, unable to help himself from lingering his gaze on the visible palpation of Garret’s exposed heart. The dying man smiled and let out a low, wet laugh as he licked his own blood from his lips and swallowed it back down as it slowly choked him to death.

“L-Looks like the hunter…. I-is the hunted now…” He rasped low, his body shuddering as the cold began to shut his systems down.

Hannibal smiled at the others dark humor, even now, and slowly crouched down to look at the only other monster like himself he’d ever known. “So it would seem… A fitting end for the likes of us, min ven…”

The air grew hushed around them and Hannibal’s amber eyes looked around them once more.

They weren’t alone anymore.

“… What was it that took you down then? Wolf?” Hannibal asked gently, needing to know what he was dealing with in the forest surrounding them. Wolves he could deal with, but if there was a troll on the hunt, it would be much harder to take down on his own.

Garret slowly rolled his head back and forth against the snow, his grim grin never faltering, even as his breathing grew shallow and slow.

“…. N-not just… T-thought I saw a man…. Saw a monster instead…” His eyes glazed over and drifted just beyond Hannibal, fixing on a thing just out of his peripheral vision. “….S-See?” 

The Viking saw the light flicker and snuff out of his companion’s eyes, leaving a grinning corpse in the snow and nothing more. He heard nothing, but he knew there was something standing in waiting, just over his shoulder. He took in a slow breath and subconsciously licked his lower lip as his hand moved to grip the gnarled antler handle of the blade in his boot; head turning slowly to take in the creature standing at the line of trees mere feet away.

He’d faced all manner of monster before… Beast, man, and all manner of that which lay between the two.

None of them compared to what he saw now in the silence and snow staring back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Danish translations:
> 
> Hej - Hey  
> Til vores jagt - To our hunt  
> min ven - my friend


End file.
